


Of Cards and Kings

by uniabocetaP



Series: Tales of War [5]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Pre-War of the Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniabocetaP/pseuds/uniabocetaP
Summary: During difficult negotiations with the Haradrim, Denethor, Imrahil, Theoden and Thorongil take a moment to respite.
Relationships: Aragorn & Imrahil, Aragorn & Theoden, Aragorn | Estel & Denethor II, Denethor & Theoden
Series: Tales of War [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1310627
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Of Cards and Kings

Pelargir, TA 2979

"Whose turn is to shuffle?" The young Prince of Dol Amroth looked at the faces of his companions. Théoden looked serene and a bit cold in his green, woollen cloak, but that was no surprise. Thorongil had opened the window right behind the Rohirrim to let fresh and cold air to enter the room, to refresh their minds as he told them. Denethor had smirked, confusing the young prince. However, now he was sure that the Captain wanted to discomfort his friend and rival in this card game. Théoden had turned out to be the best among them, surpassing even the luck and cunning of Thorongil.

"I will do it" Denethor had surprised them all by joining them this evening. He was his father's representative in Pelargir, which meant that his presence was sought way too often. After all, it was not a pleasant meeting of four old friends that brought them here. "I do not trust you with the task. Who taught you to shuffle? I bet that it was your great uncle".

It was Imrahil's turn to smirk. "My great uncle? No, he preferred dice games..."

Denethor's eyebrow raised high. "Your father?"

"Almost... He taught Finduilas and she taught me".

Shock registered on his brother in law face, which soon was transformed to admiration, tenderness and all the usual soft emotions that a man experienced when he was in love with his lady.

"That explains a thing or too". Thorongil shut the window and took his place at the round table again. "I had started to wonder how much luck a lady can have, while playing cards".

Denethor was distributing the beautifully painted cards to them, as Thorongil narrated Finduilas’ latest triumph at the card game. In fact, Imrahil was not surprised that Denethor had not grasped Findi’s playing style. For her husband, she was perfect, incapable of doing anything wrong.

Silence filled the room as they all concentrated on their hands, trying to assess the possibilities of victory, judging who might have the cards they sought. Théoden tapped his fingers against the wood; a sign of deep thought. Imrahil had noticed the crown prince of Rohan doing the exact same movement during the negotiations. The Rohirrim had every reason to be sceptical, as the talks did not go well. The Corsairs were eager to provoke and to not consent to anything. When he had arrived from Dol Amroth a few days earlier, he was full of hope. _We will get a treaty, father, fret not! Denethor is a stout negotiator and we have Rohan at our side_ , he had boasted.

Denethor proved to be an unrelenting negotiator, a most capable one but also harsh. It was good that Théoden was there, his friendlier disposition smoothed a lot of tense situations. Imrahil had grown to admire the Rohirric Prince as much as Denethor and Thorongil. Despite the combined efforts of the three men, the other side of the table did not concede to any points.

"Thorongil, did my brother in law already tell you what new insult the ornery Umbarians came up with?" Imrahil folded his cards and placed them on the table.

The Captain did not raise his eyes from his cards. "Please do tell me".

"They said that we insult them, because none of us is of equal standing to negotiate with them" Imrahil let silence follow his words. He observed Thorongil slowly raising his eyes to face him, his features frowning in confusion and subsequent clarity. He soon realised he was not the only one who paid close attention to the Captain. Denethor was studying the Captain's face as well. "They said that only a King was of equal ranking with their chief".

Thorongil's face was unreadable again, and Denethor was observing without any comments. Only, Théoden seemed unperturbed by the discussion.

"We, of course, maintained our moral ground and countered their argument with logic" the Prince of Rohan gestured wildly to show his annoyance with the approach to the slight. This agitation proved convenient for Imrahil, as now he knew that Théoden had a lot of heart shaped cards. "I wanted to smack him, and leave the room, but as the future King of Rohan I couldn't do it". He placed his cards on the table, ending Imrahil's chance to have a peek at all of them. "I argued that for Rohan I am the best representative they would get and mentioned that anyway, we would not do anything against our closest allies' wishes. Imrahil had a few good points though; he mentioned a number of treaties that the Princes of Belfalas had signed with Harad and Umbar, while we mentioned that Ecthelion was not able to travel either, and many times a Steward's son talked and successfully represented Gondor".

"Did they like that response?" Thorongil rose from his table to fetch the wine.

"No, of course not. They even said that the Steward himself was inadequate. What did they expect?" Théoden raised his hands up in the air.

"A king". Denethor answered while his eyes never left Thorongil's back. Imrahil payed attention to the Captain's figure; suddenly it had turned rigid and stiff.

"Gondor has no King" Théoden possessed the gift of stating matters in a concise and direct manner, which caused some courtiers in Minas Tirith to look down on him. Denethor, Imrahil and Thorongil looked down on those courtiers. "Gondor will never have a King".

The night was full of surprises, as it was Denethor who contradicted Théoden’s words. "Gondor could have a King again. There have been claimants of the throne before".

"You are a Steward of Gondor, my friend" Théoden smiled politely. "Your House's official line is that you protect Gondor for the King. A clever idea, as then your ancestors could keep in line the ambitious politicians hoping to get the throne for themselves. But do you really believe that the King will return to Gondor?"

Thorongil's figure had relaxed, but his face was grim. He was still under close scrutiny by Denethor. He had returned to the table; the wine was being poured into their forgotten wine glasses. "You took your sweet time in serving us wine... We are thirsty!" The Captain smiled at Imrahil's impatient voice.

"Yes".

Denethor's answer was sharp and cut deep into everyone's mood.

"So, you say that if anyone walked up to you and claim to be the heir to the throne of Gondor, you would just... Accept him?" Théoden’s voice betrayed that he considered the idea incredulous.

Denethor rolled his eyes. "Of course not. It would have to be from the appropriate line. However, if he were the correct man, the man who would prove that he cared for Gondor and its people, protected her from her enemies. I would accept a worthy King, not just any King".

"Gondor does not need a King". Thorongil's voice was flat.

"Gondor needs a strong institution to lead her to peace. As much as the Corsairs drove us mad, they made a good point. I am the Steward's heir, not a Crown Prince. Indeed, my family kept power by announcing that we maintain the Kingdom till the King's return. It has proven useful, but on the other hand, it has limited our power".

"Limiting power is not a reason for wishing change". Thorongil crossed his arms.

"It is a reason when the Kingdom falls apart! Our greatest limitation is that we are humble, we are a demoralized country. All those generations of fighting and maintaining our country has worn our people down".

"It has brought strength and pride".

"What good is strength and pride if my people do not have hope? Unity?" Denethor leaned forward on the table, looking directly Thorongil in the eyes. The other two men had been forgotten as the conversation had turned into an argument. "Dark times are ahead of us".

"I know, but the time for the return of the king is not ripe" Thorongil sounded sad and reluctant. Imrahil was unable to locate the source of those emotions, he knew however that this argument must have been one that they had often repeated before. "Fear of losing crowd control is not a good reason for an institutional change".

"When is it? When we have all fallen to the swords of our enemies, our wives taken slaves, and our babies food for their horses?" Denethor's cool eyes were full of fire now.

"Now, gentlemen, our talks have gone bad, but this will not happen soon. It might not even happen in the days of our children". Denethor must have sensed that a sensitive topic of dispute had come up; perhaps the Prince of Rohan had a better inclination towards what caused the sudden strong emotions.

 _Ivriniel is right, when I drink too much I stop paying attention,_ Imrahil thought.

Théoden rose his glass. "A toast" he waited till the rest picked up their full wine glasses. "To peace, unity, wine and me being the winner in tonight’s game!"

Théoden drunk up his wine fast, Imrahil matched him, having already forgotten Ivriniel's words. Thorongil took a good sip, but finished not his drink, while Denethor took a moment to consider his Captain and friend before sipping his wine.

"Alright, let us get to that game, otherwise the Rohirrim might never get the chance to win".

Théoden did not win in cards that night, nor any of the following ones.


End file.
